


Precious Dream

by lieano



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:52:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lieano/pseuds/lieano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carefully constructed dreams are imperative to a sad child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Precious Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I got the idea from this prompt: http://writingprompts.tumblr.com/post/41409991566/689-dream-or-nightmare-this-one-is-from-a. Which in hindsight seems silly 'cause, duh, what else would the sandman do??? But Idk. Have it anyway. It's pretty short, so enjoy. :) And maybe get out a tissue or something....

Roads of glittering gold contrasted against the black sky, stretching towards precious destinations in every direction. Roads broke off into ribbons of dust that was brighter than glitter and softer than sand. Happy thoughts danced among the stars and on thatched rooftops before diving through open windows and doors, seeking out young hearts to make aflutter with dreams. Sandy drifted contently on a cluster of his dream sand, allowing a half smile to grace his lips as he directed his precious dreams to the children that imagined them.

He didn’t notice it right away, but one particular ribbon of dreams was stopped at a closed door as if hesitating on its entrance. Intrigued, Sandy sat up in his cloud and drifted down to peer in through a frosted window. The cold stone room he saw beyond was impossibly dark. The only light, save his glittering strings of wonder, was the Moon, which beckoned him to look closer with its overbearing gaze. 

Sandy lifted the windowpane and jumped into the small hut. He brushed some flecks of gray human dust from his otherwise flawlessly golden robes. In the far corner of the house was a bed made of wood and straw with three figures jammed onto it. There was another bed across the room, but it was empty, a thin sheet crumpled at its foot. Sandy tiptoed to the edge of the occupied bed to get a closer look at its inhabitants. A woman, a man, and a small child wedged between them. In addition to a glitter of gold in the corner of the man’s eye, the sandman noticed something else slightly more… Unsettling. Patches of damp, red skin pooled upon his cheekbones just under his closed eyelids. It could have been from the cold weather outside. Sandy knew better, unfortunately. 

Buried under her father’s arm, the sandman was unable to get a good look at the young girl’s face, but he knew who she was. A crushing sadness overwhelmed his heart and he resisted the urge to reach out to the child and comfort her personally. He knew what she needed, and she needed it more than any other child in the village. 

Sandy looked over his shoulder at the open window and gestured for his strand of dream sand to come to him. It floated across the room in a careful whisper and swirled above the slumbering child’s ear. There was a soft moan and she shifted slightly so that Sandy could just make out her nose wrinkling as the sand started to shape itself into a figure. Two figures to be exact. One of a young girl in a ratted dress, and the other of a teenaged boy. They silently laughed at each other and then proceeded to dance across the bed. 

The child sighed and smiled contently, nuzzling her face against her father’s warm arm once more. Sandy smiled sadly to himself and floated from the house, being careful to shut the window quietly as he left. 

The moon greeted him once more as he entered the chilly winter air and he stared pensively into its gaze. Sometimes people died young, and sometimes they did it doing something heroic. Sometimes those people were rewarded for their good deeds. Sandy could not predict what would become of the boy who had drowned in the icy lake that morning, or the little sister he had left behind. Only time and the Moon could tell for certain.


End file.
